Silent Night
by fagur fiskur
Summary: The bunker gets cold around Christmas time. Too cold to be in bed by yourself. Dean/Cas


**A/N:** 30 (more) cheesy tropes #5 Bed Sharing

No bonus points for figuring out where I got the title for this one from.

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**Silent Night**

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Dean had never been big on Christmas, but he'd meant to do something special since it was Cas' first as a human. Nothing huge, not even a tree, but maybe some decorations, a nice wreath and a good meal. Maybe even some presents.

But then mid-December, they got a case. It shouldn't have been that big a deal, just a quick salt and burn, but Cas had gotten hurt. Thrown into a tombstone, lost consciousness. Sam had lit the bones on fire just seconds later and Dean had rushed to his side.

It had taken ten minutes to wake Cas up, and hadn't those been some of the most terrifying ten minutes of Dean's life. They'd spent the days before Christmas in Nolensville, Tennessee, with Cas in the hospital and Sam and Dean staying at a nearby motel.

When they got back to the bunker on Christmas Eve, it was dark and cold. They were all pretty much dead on their feet, and so they headed to bed.

Dean's bedroom was just as cold as the rest of the bunker, so he didn't bother to take off more than his jacket and shoes before slipping under the covers.

It took him a while to fall asleep and when he did, it was an uneasy one. The sight of Cas smacking into that tombstone and going down like a bag of rocks kept playing over and over in his dreams, only now Dean couldn't wake him.

The doors on Dean's bedroom opened with a small groan, startling him from his sleep. He sat up, automatically reaching under the pillow for a weapon that wasn't there. Then his eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see Cas standing in the doorway.

"Dude, it's," Dean glanced at the clock on his nightstand, "one in the morning."

"I shouldn't have come," Cas muttered, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Dean said. "What is it?"

For a moment, it looked like Cas might leave anyway, but then he came inside and closed the door behind him. "It's too cold here, I couldn't sleep. I was wondering if there were any extra blankets here."

Dean huffed. As a matter of fact, there had been extra blankets in the storage, but they'd all been in such bad shape, not even three rounds in the washing machine could make them presentable. "If there were, I'd be using them right now."

Cas nodded, the movement barely noticeable through the dark. "I see."

But he didn't move to leave, and although he didn't say anything, Dean could guess what his next question might be. He should send Cas off to bed before he could ask it, but instead what he said was:

"You can bunk here if you want."

As soon as the words were out, Dean wanted to take them back. But Cas didn't seem to find the idea completely terrible. "Really?"

Dean shrugged. "I mean, I'm cold too. Might as well, you know," he cleared his throat, "body heat and all that."

It wasn't weird, right? It wasn't like they'd be cuddling or some shit like that, they'd just be sharing body heat. Just a couple of straight guy friends, huddling for warmth.

Fuck. Who was he kidding?

"If it's all right with you," Cas said. He sounded hesitant, maybe, but not weirded out.

"It's fine," Dean said.

Cas came closer, and then he was crawling under the covers next to Dean. He was almost fully dressed, same as Dean, so even as he huddled right next up to Dean, the only skin that touched was his forehead against Dean's cheek. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped one arm around Dean's chest. Dean squirmed, but didn't move away. Couldn't move away. Cas was there, alive and breathing, so warm and solid and goddamn _human_. It took every bit of willpower Dean had not to wrap his arms around Cas in turn.

Instead, he stayed as he was, arms stiffly by his sides, and within minutes he'd fallen asleep.

He woke up sweating some time in the night, barely coherent enough to pull off his pants before falling back asleep.

* * *

"Dean."

Dean stirred. Still too asleep to place where he was or who had spoken, he could only focus on the warm body in his arms. He burrowed closer to it, burying his nose in their hair.

"Dean," the voice said again.

"What?" Dean mumbled.

"I need to urinate."

At that, Dean cracked open one eye. A mess of dark hair greeted him, and after a couple of moments he realized what was going on. He was holding Cas, _clinging to him_, and it seemed that at some point Cas had gotten too warm as well, since neither of them was wearing pants.

He let go, scooting back, enough so that he could see Cas' face. Cas looked up at him, unblinking, a slight pink tinge in his cheeks. Dean could only stare back, absolutely mortified. He could feel panic mounting in his chest.

"Merry Christmas," Cas said.

Just like that, the panic deflated. "What?"

"It's the twenty-fifth," Cas added. "Christmas Day."

Wordlessly, Dean nodded. Cas nodded back, and then he was climbing out of bed. Dean reached out for him but caught himself just in time and pulled his hand back. Like he wasn't already acting clingy enough.

Just as Cas got to the door, Dean remembered himself. "Merry Christmas!"

Cas stopped with his hand on the doorknob, turned around and smiled at Dean. "Thank you, Dean."

* * *

It was a simple Christmas. No presents, no decorations, just a decent meal with the three of them, but it was plenty enough. And that evening, instead of waiting until after midnight, Cas followed Dean straight to bed as they went to sleep.


End file.
